


bury me on the edge of paradise

by BatchSan



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Community: kink_bingo, Double Penetration, F/F, Femslash, PWP, Romance, Smut, Tentabulges, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/pseuds/BatchSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Truly, you’re jealous of her luck in the romantic department. As you understand it, she’s managed to fill all her quadrants with just the one partner while you’ve explored all the quadrants with multiple partners but have been ultimately unsuccessful in making any long-lasting quadrants.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>There’s still so much catching up you have to do to your dancestor.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	bury me on the edge of paradise

You’ve been known to have quite the record of relationships over the course of your life (or un-life, as it were), but this was new and different in ways that flared a long forgotten thrill in you when it came to the redder spectrum of the quadrants.

Beneath you is the pinned body of your dancestor’s matesprit, her lips full and kiss swollen, pink tongue tracing the contours of her lipstick smeared lips. It ignites fire in your gastric sac, spreading both to your chest and your loins in graceful sweeps like the upturn of Rose’s lips in a teasing smirk. You can’t help but cast a glance at your dancestor, whom is watching the scene before her unfold with unsteady breaths. Truly, you’re jealous of her luck in the romantic department. As you understand it, she’s managed to fill all her quadrants with just the one partner while you’ve explored all the quadrants with multiple partners but have been ultimately unsuccessful in making any long-lasting quadrants.

There’s still so much catching up you have to do to your dancestor.

For now, she allows you this reprieve from the familiar. Gives you the chance to explore new boundaries and limits, and tastes. It’s been awhile since you’ve feed your hunger and the tiny, fading scars around Rose’s neckline says it has been awhile since she’s been fed from. You lick her collarbone from where it’s peeking at you over the neck of her shirt like a naughty grub peeking into the nutritionblock before dinner is ready. Her hand comes up to press against your shoulder, urging you forward, giving you the permission you’re burning for.

Why look a gift musclebeast in the mouth?

As your fangs bury themselves in the crook of her neck, Rose and Kanaya both make a choked sound at the same time. A part of you wants to look up to see their faces, but the warm elixir of blood – candy red blood like Kankri’s – is bright in your mouth, addictive like sugar and smoking were to others. It spills over your teeth and tongue like a fountain of ambrosia. The thrill of the taste makes you unsheathe.

Careful not to be greedy, you pull away, blood spilling from the corner of your mouth in a thin trickle. The human looks absolutely debauched after the bite, her pupils blown up and her breathing heavy, and she’s smiling in a way that is hotter than the sun. 

Kanaya is busy working her fang into her lip so hard that there’s a welt of jade blood rising from her lip. You beckon her over and she complies, hesitantly. She crawls over to your side and yelps delicately against you lips when you draw her into a kiss. Your tongue claims the blot of blood on you dancestor’s lip and you shudder with the rare pleasure and taboo of tasting your own blood color.

Debauchery seems to be the theme of the night.

Rose sits up and as soon you let go of Kanaya, she pulls her down for a kiss, the pair sinking into the strange human bed. You kneel there for a moment, just watching the two of them and feeling again a small spark of jealousy but moreso, you feel disappointed with yourself. Your issues with quadrants is a long running theme in your life that surmounts to little more than you being afraid to settle down and accept some preordained role you have no interest in, just yet. But now is not the time for philosophical dwellings on your personal hang-ups, now is the time to attend to the matter at hand.

Rose’s hand is hot in comparison to Kanaya’s cool one, but as they help you out of your dress, you barely notice the difference once lips find your flesh. You bulge strains desperately for release but you ignore it in favor helping the others out of their clothing, your lips and fangs finding purchase wherever you deem fit. By the time they’re naked – Kanaya a blushing mess of jade and flickering luminescence – you’ve tasted their blood several times, puncture marks decorating hips and breasts, shoulders and lips.

You feel invigorated because of it and readily take control of Rose, laying back and allowing her to slip down onto your bulge. Her face is lovely shades of pinks and reds as she gasps, her black lipstick a mess around her mouth as her lips part and violet eyes peer down at you through lidded eyes. She’s hot and tight around your bulge, drawing a pitiful whimper from you. You’ve never felt a nook this hot or wet before and it takes a lot of control to not pail right away. Instead you grip Rose’s hips and pull her so she’s laying over you, your bulge attempting to latch on to her malformed bulge. The sounds she’s making are tortuously delicious.

It takes Kanaya a moment to gather the nerve to approach, to come and complete the trinity the three of you have begun creating. When her bulge touches yours, the two twining around each other eagerly, you sink your claws too hard into Rose’s flesh. She doesn’t protest, but she bucks sharply against you and she’s panting so hard now that you worry she’ll disintegrate between the two of you. When she reaches down to guide the entwined bulges into her nook, you can’t help but feel like disintegrating yourself.

Kanaya gives a delicate cry but rocks along with you into Rose, who’s now babbling incoherently as her hips rock along with you and Kanaya. She grips so hard onto your shoulders that you know they’ll be bruises later. When you claim her lips, she can only pant heavily into your mouth; a lip accidentally catching on one of your fangs. It pricks enough of the delicate flesh for your mouth to be filled with that bright red ambrosia once again. It burns you through like a white fire and your next thrust is more violent than it should have been. Rose gasps and you can feel her nook tighten around your bulge but the taste of blood is electric on your senses and you can’t stop thrusting, even after Rose’s nook relaxes and her breathing is slow but hitched.

You nearly forget Kanaya’s there until she’s growling and cursing softly, her claws leaving even worst marks than yours on Rose’s hips, back, and thighs. Her stamina is amicable for someone with as little sexual experience as hers, but she can’t last forever, and a moment later she pails, her bulge thickening significantly before withdrawing with a squelch.

Which leaves you alone with Rose, who’s trying hard to keep control of herself long enough to make you pail before she can. She leans back, rocks hard against you, and cries out, her nook tightening again around your bulge. The tightness, plus the sight of red blood and bruised flesh sends you over the edge. Rose whimpers as you fill her; jade fluid spills from her when your bulge withdraws back into its sheathe. She collapses beside you, Kanaya lying on her opposite side to drape a protective arm around her matesprit.

You’re too weary to do more than roll onto your side, brush sweated locks of hair from Rose’s brow, and kiss the knuckles of Kanaya’s hand. When you wake much later, they’re gone, presumably awake now, and you’re left with the image of sated smiles and a sense of loneliness you’ve become far too familiar with for comfort.


End file.
